


Picnic

by lisac1965



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 18:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15690885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisac1965/pseuds/lisac1965
Summary: My take on Chakotay and Seven's third date





	Picnic

Picnic

Seven looked down at the display on the cargo bay floor. Everything was ready, according to the picture she had on her P.A.D.D. as reference: The red and white checkered blanket, the basket, the place settings and food... She even had a bottle of wine and two wine glassed set up. When Neelix suggested a picnic as an appropriate third date, Seven went right into conducting her research and referenced a number of holo-images to get an idea of how to set it up. A meal carried in a basket and eaten on a blanket on the ground seemed like a crude way to spend time together. Eating a meal while sitting in a chair took some getting used to as it was. But, eating on the floor- well- she would adapt, of course.

The pictures all showed these "picnics" to be conducted outdoors, not indoors, and she started to wander if perhaps she should have invited the First Officer to the holo-deck instead of the cargo bay, but there was no time to change plans now. It was already 13:03 hours and he was on his way. Judging from their two previous dates, Chakotay was always prompt.

Seven knelt down on the blanket, hoping that this "date" proves to be as successful as the previous two. Ever since she asked Chakotay to "assist (her) in broadening (her) research on human social behavior", as she put it, she found herself apprehensive about it, hoping it would not end in disaster like her date with Lieutenant Chapman. She remembered how uncomfortable he was with her and how she "damaged" his garment with the lobster she had attempted to eat, or when she tried to dance with him and damaged the ligament in his arm. She had decided that these "dates" with Chakotay would not involve lobster or dancing- well, maybe dancing. Dancing with the Doctor was a pleasant experience. Perhaps it would be just as pleasant with Chakotay. But, definitely no lobster. Although Chakotay was a vegetarian, he didn't have a problem eating replicated meat, since no animal had to die to produce it. But, anything that still resembled the animal's living state when served, he still avoided it, even if it was replicated, much to Seven's relief- no lobster!

She looked down at the trivet of food in the middle of the blanket which contained some sliced bread, ham, cheese, and a mound of black grapes, pleased with herself that she had managed to cover all four food groups, according to human dietary requirements, in such a simple meal. Then, she reached for the bottle of wine, just as the cargo bay doors whooshed open and Chakotay stepped inside. He paused briefly, smiling at her as she opened the wine and flashed him a smile in return.

"What's all this?" he asked as his approached her, still smiling at her as she poured him a glass of the wine.

"A picnic. According to my research, this is an appropriate third date", she answered as she handed him his glass, then began to pour herself one.

"You didn't have to go to this much trouble," he said as he took a sip.

Seven felt her stomach sink. She was so preoccupied with making sure everything was perfect that it hadn't occurred to her that she may have been over-doing it.

She looked up at him apolitically, "If this makes you uncomfortable, I could prepare a less elaborate meal..."

"No," he told her gently as he knelt down onto the blanket. "Don't change a thing. This is perfection."  
Chakotay's smile broadened as he raised his glass up for a toast. Seven smiled as she clinked her glass with his and took a drink. Then, she put down her wine and proceeded to make a sandwich for him.

"Don't worry- it's replicated," she said, referring to the ham, still smiling and obviously goading him.

"Nice to see you cooking again," he teased.

Seven furrowed her brow. "You qualify assembling sandwiches as a means of cooking?" She then finished making the sandwich, put it and some grapes onto a plate and handed it to Chakotay, then proceeded to make her own lunch.

"Any chance you'll ever start cooking again? You're no doubt the best cook on board."

"Well, then, perhaps I should take over for Neelix in the mess hall."

Chakotay knew she was teasing, but protested anyway. "I'm afraid that wouldn't be possible. We still need you full time in Astrometrics and you'll be working more hours in Engineering while B'elanna is on maternity leave."

"How is Lieutenant Torres? I haven't seen her all morning."

"Still pregnant and not in the best of moods from what Tom told me. She went into false labor again last night."

"That's twice, correct?"

"Her third, actually."

"Did you inform the Captain?"

Chakotay nodded. "The way she puts it, 'that baby is as stubborn as her mother.'" He tried to imitate Captain Janeway while quoting her, which drew another smile from Seven, who was clearly suppressing a laugh.

Aw, come on, Seven. Let me hear you laugh- just once... Chakotay kept the plea to himself for now, as Seven methodically kept her emotions in check, knowing that the Borg fail-safe in her cortical node would be activated again and that she would endanger herself if she didn't.

"You still haven't answered my question," Chakotay said.

Seven looked at him with a raised brow, "Begging you're pardon? What question?"

"If you're going to be doing anymore cooking. I miss your gourmet meals."

Seven thought for a moment. "If my culinary skills are ever required, then perhaps I shall consider it. Have you filled the position in the mess-hall yet?"

"Crewman Chell's offered to take the job."

"I recommend you decline his offer. As you mentioned earlier, we need skilled personnel in Engineering while Lieutenant Torres is on leave. It would be more efficient if he remained at his current post."

"So," Chakotay said with a bemused expression, "who would you recommend, then?"

"Crewman Celes," Seven answered without hesitation.

Chakotay straightened, smiled mischievously and teasingly shook his head, "Anything to get her out of Astrometrics..."

"Crewman Telfer insists that her culinary skills are adequate," Seven persisted. "She still lacks the ability to perform her tasks efficiently in Astrometrics, Engineering, or any other post on Voyager for that matter. She would serve us better if allowed to utilize her more domestic skills."

Chakotay nodded, giving Seven's suggestion some thought. "I'll look into it, but Chell seems to really have his heart set on taking the job. He even prepared a sample menu for my review."

"And does this 'sample menu' consist of, Plasma Leak Soup and Chicken Warp Cor-don Blue?," she asked, sarcastically. "I overheard him discussing it with some of the Engineering crew."

Chakotay chucked, "Okay, I see your point."

"Neelix asked me yesterday about who's working in the mess-hall..."

"Tell him I'm on it. How is he, by the way? Ensign Wildman tells me you and Naomi have been taking turns playing Kadis-Kot with him when he contacts us."

"Yes. She misses him immensely, but his transmissions with Voyager seem to be helping her adapt." Neelix was Naomi's godfather until he left Voyager to live with his own people, so his absence has been especially difficult for her.

"I'm surprised you haven't taken in interest in Kal-Toe," Chakotay said, regarding Seven's infinity for Kadis-Kot.

"The solution for Kal-Toe is based on elementary spacial harmonics. It would be too easy a puzzle for me to solve. Kadis-Kot, however, simply requires strategy. The Borg are well versed in spacial harmonics, but- since they are more powerful than most other species, there is little need for stra..." Seven stopped short, quickly put her sandwich down, and hung her head, appearing to be embarrassed.

"Seven?" Chakotay's tone was that of concern.

Seven looked up in his direction, not looking him in the eyes and practically wringing her hands. "I... apologize, Commander."

"For what?"

She hesitated, looking down at her hands and then back up at Chakotay. "I... I was... talking about the Borg again."

Chakotay shrugged. "You were raised as Borg", he said, trying to sound reassuring, "it's bound to come up once in a while."

Now, she was looking right up at him- surprised. "It doesn't disturb you?"

He shook his head. "No. Not any more. It's part of who you are. Part of what makes you so unique. In fact, I find that aspect of your life quite fascinating."

"Explain," she said, furrowing her brow.

"I'm not sure if I can," he said, trying desperately to find the right words. "It's just... well... our pasts have a way of showing us just how far we've come. I mean... think about what you've been through these past four years. You've been through all these malfunctions, and you've dealt with alien races who wanted to avenge the assimilation of their people on you; not to mention just having to adapt to life as an individual after eighteen years in the Collective. All that has helped make you one of the strongest, most loyal, most caring individuals I know. Given your history, Seven, you've come a very long way."

Seven was speechless, unsure how to respond to such praise from her commanding officer and friend. Then, she gave the only response she could think of: "Thank you, Chakotay."

"You're very welcome, Seven," he answered, smiling warmly.

Seven shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable, when Chakotay noticed her grimacing.

"Seven?"

Seven looked at him and groaned; "I am not accustomed to sitting on the floor." So much for adapting...

"I can see that," he nodded, then stood. "Hmm..."

Seven felt a twinge of panic. Is he leaving? Has our date been terminated?

But Chakotay made no move to leave. Instead, he stood, looking around with his hands on his hips. Then, he lifted an arm and pointed, "How 'bout over there?"

Seven looked up to see that he was pointing at a cargo container which was long enough and low enough for them to sit on. She nodded and Chakotay helped her to her feet, picked up her plate and glass of wine and handed them to her, then picked up his own lunch and together they walked to the container and sat with their lunches in between them.

"Better?"

Seven nodded. "Yes. Thank you. This is much more comfortable."

"Any time."

They ate for a while in comfortable silence until Chakotay decided to resume their conversation. "So, have you placed a bet in the baby pool yet?"

Seven regarded him inquisitively. "'Baby pool..?'"

"It's a gambling pool to see who can best guess the time and date B'elanna will deliver her baby."

Seven's inquisitive expression then transformed into a scowl. "I find wagering on the birth of an infant repugnant!"

"Just a little harmless fun," Chakotay explained. "Even the Captain's participating."

"I still say it is inappropriate," Seven retorted. "I do not wish to participate."

"All right, fine," Chakotay answered defensively, "I didn't mean to start anything. I'm sorry!"

Seven then realized that she owed him an explanation. "I apologize, Commander. You see, the Doctor and Lieutenant Paris once wagered on me."

"Oh?" He answered, now understanding. "When? And it's Chakotay, please."

"Of course- Chakotay." Seven could feel her cheeks flushing. "It was when the Kadi Ambassador was on board two years ago. The Doctor was teaching me how to date as part of my social lessons. As it turned out, Lieutenant Paris wagered with him on weather his efforts would be successful. I found out about it at the Ambassador's reception. I experienced... humiliation. It was an... unpleasant sensation."

Chakotay nodded. Now, it all made sense. "You felt used. Manipulated."

"Precisely."

Chakotay reached out and placed his hand on Seven's. "I'm sorry, Seven. I hadn't realized... I didn't mean to offend you."

"I know." Seven's voice was almost inaudible when she answered. She found the sensation of Chakotay's hand on hers quite comforting, but in an unsettling way. She wanted more of this sensation of warmth and strength that seemed to channel from him to her, but she was not accustomed to having such a need, not even when she ran her simulations of Chakotay and Voyager three months earlier. This time it was stronger- more urgent than she had anticipated; as if some sort of gravitational pull were drawing her to him with no hope of escape. If these interactions were going to continue, Seven would have to let the Doctor remove her Borg fail-safe- or die!

Chakotay gave Seven's hand an affectionate squeeze before releasing it and resumed eating his lunch.

"However," Seven said, resuming the conversation, "I could surmise that the child will be born within the next three days."

"Oh? And just how did you come up with that assessment?"

"I assume you would refer to it as a wild guess," Seven answered as she popped a grape into her mouth, her eyes meeting Chakotay's, unblinking, eyebrows raised and looking positively enticing. Never had Chakotay ever seen her more un-Borg like; more... human. He could feel his own pulse quicken- a silly smile forming on his face.

"I never thought of you as one to make 'wild guesses'," he said, hoping Seven didn't notice the blood he could feel rushing to his cheeks. Down, boy... easy... one step at a time...

"I do not have sufficient data on Lieutenant Torres' pregnancy for a precise analysis," Seven answered teasingly. "A wild guess is basically all I have at my disposal."

Chakotay nodded, chuckling, "Sounds logical to me." He took another sip of his wine and then looked back at Seven inquisitively. "You know, all this talk about B'elanna's baby... well, I was just wondering... " Chakotay hoped that what he wanted to ask her didn't sound too forward. "Have you ever thought about having kids?"

Seven looked at him sharply. "Chakotay..!"

"Just out of curiosity," Chakotay said, trying to save face. "I promise!"

Seven was reluctant to answer. "I.. try not to think too much about it."

"How come?" It didn't make sense to Chakotay that a woman- even Seven- would dismiss the idea of becoming a mother.

Seven shrugged before answering. "I am uncertain it would be possible for me to procreate."

"I see," Chakotay nodded. "Because of the technology in your body?"

Seven nodded. "Borg technology is programed to assimilate any life-form it encounters. Fetal life-forms are not stable enough to survive the assimilation process. They die instantly."

"Any chance the Doctor could come up with a solution?"

Seven sighed. "I haven't discussed the matter with him. Besides, even if I am able to reproduce, I'm uncertain how I would fare as a mother."

"You did a great job with the Borg children."

Seven shot him a look. "I made mistakes... "

"All parents make mistakes," Chakotay said, trying to reassure her. "You learned from your mistakes, and the children thrived under your care."

Seven nodded, contemplatively. Then, Chakotay continued. "Do you know why I denied your request to be relieved of guardianship over those children?" Seven shook her head. "It was because I knew that once you understood what mistakes you were making, you would correct them. As a result, you turned out to be the most suitable guardian they could have, because you understood better that anyone what they needed to adjust to life as individuals."

"True," Seven acknowledged. "But I still have insufficient experience with infants."

"Well, maybe you could help B'elanna with her baby once in a while and get some experience that way."

Seven was now starting to get uncomfortable with the subject. "I would prefer it if we discussed this at a more appropriate time, please."

Realizing that he might have pressed the issue a little too far, Chakotay nodded and was going to apologize when the cargo bay doors opened and Harry Kim stepped inside.

"Commander... Seven," Harry acknowledged, then noticed the picnic set-up just a few meters from them. "Hope I'm not intruding."

"Not at all, Ensign," Chakotay assured.

Then, Seven chimed in, "Commander Chakotay is assisting me with some research."

Harry inquisitively raised his brow. "Research?"

Chakotay and Seven gave each other a look, then looked back at Harry as Chakotay confirmed, "Research."

Harry did a double take on the picnic display and then back at them. "O...kay..." Then, walked further into the cargo bay. "I'll be out of your way in a sec'. I just need an e.p.s. relay. We've got one fizzling out on deck fourteen." He made his way around the various cargo containers until he found the one which contained the relays, opened it, lifted out the needed component, and closed it.

"You guys really missed something in the mess-hall," Harry said as he walked a few meters toward the exit.

"Crewman Chel's Red Alert Chili, perhaps?" Seven teased, resulting in giggles from both men.

"Actually, it was Tuvok. He was teaching Icheb how to play Kal-Toe. Well, they were playing for about thirty minutes- I, of course was trying to help Icheb along- and I thought Tuvok had a chance. Well, Icheb beat him- first time out! It was priceless!" Seven and Chakotay exchanged a look, clearly impressed, as Harry continued. "Tuvok didn't take it well, though. He left the mess-hall right afterward and was clearly not happy; not that a Vulcan could ever get happy."

"Hmm", Chakotay mused, "not like Tuvok to be such a sore loser."

"That's what I thought, too. Anyway, I'll let you two get back to your lunch."

"Harry."

The Ensign turned to answer just before exiting. "Sir?"

Chakotay looked at Seven, then back at Harry. "Could you do me a favor and scratch my name off the baby pool?"

Harry raised his brow in puzzlement. "Sir?"

"Please."

Harry then noticed Seven looking at Chakotay, first inquisitively, then smiling when Chakotay looked at her before turning his attention back to Harry, who nodded in understanding. "Aye, sir." Then, left.

"Thank you, Chakotay," Seven said.

"Well," Chakotay explained, "when you told me about Tom and the Doctor betting on you, it just didn't feel right anymore." Then, Chakotay leaned in closer to her and said in a low, husky voice, "So, now that Harry saw us together, how long do you think it will take before the whole crew is talking about us?"

Getting his drift, Seven teasingly, "Well, the Doctor did tell me once that here on Voyager, gossip travels faster than warp speed. So, I estimate that you and I will be regarded as the next 'hot idem' by 06:00 tomorrow morning."

"I hope so," he teased back, laughing.


End file.
